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Elusive Love – Short Crime Story

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Elusive Love – Short Crime Story

They paused, allowing the waiter of the plush restaurant to place the plates on the table in a courteous manner before heading back to the kitchen.

She continued: ‘I know but let’s give it some time. I am currently involved in this training with an international outfit that may last for a month’.

He exuded a long face: ‘Is that more important than me? Or do I acquire the organisation?’

She smiled, stroking his jaw with her dainty fingers: ‘No my love, I need it to literally head up the ladder professionally. You wouldn’t want to marry a woman who is a step behind’, she said, expressing a broad grin.

He could feel the joy oozing from her and he bathed in the euphoria, not wanting the feeling to stop.

She could see a cloud of scepticism shrouding his countenance: What’s wrong, my love?’

He responded with a frown: ‘Seems you ain’t ready to walk the aisle with me?’

She stroked his angular jawline, gently caressing the jaunty edges of his smooth jaw: ‘Its not about that, I just wish to be better prepared as a wife or what do you think?’

Mason shook his head slightly, a testament of his view which was at cross-purposes with hers: ‘ I don’t want a perfect wife, I want you…’

She could feel the tinge on her hand as he patted it, an electrifying warmth sizzled down her body: ‘Okay dear, I hear you. I would be talking to my boss to see if I can defer the training and then see how we can make it work.’

‘Thanks dear’, Mason said, kissing the knuckle side of her hand.

She smiled reassuringly. 

He soon picked up his cutleries and with a wink, Anne discerned it was time to wine and dine. Soon their cutleries went to work clinking on the expensive plates as they nibbled through the delicacies that were before them.

While they were enjoying their dinner, the mobile phone snuggled in the internal breast pocket of his phone buzzed suddenly making him almost jolt out of his chair.

A dismal look of frustration was evident on Anne’s face.

He paid no attention to the sound, continuing his meal till it went silent. Almost immediately, the comms device interjected him again.

The vibrating hum vexed Anne who exuded a face which was evidently vexed.

Raising a placating finger, he reached for the device and engaged the line with a poke of his fire finger.

It was his mum, Bernadette 

‘Hello Mason’, she said, her high-pitched tone almost audible through the receiver.

Amidst a mouthful of food, he responded: ‘Mum, I wasn’t expecting your call’.

‘Sorry, I am interrupting your time with Anne, can you extend my apologies please?’

Mason winked at her – a sign that he had done the needful. She understood, pouting her lips, mimicking a kiss to his mother who was kilometres away in the high brow neighborhood of Wilkshire elite zone.

‘Anne understands, Mum. What’s it that’s so pressing that it cannot wait till I get home?’

‘Your uncle needs you in the office, he says the Chinese experts have faulted the design. He requires your perusal before any alterations are made.’

Mason dropped his silver fork irritably, the loud clang evident at the other end of the line. Bernadette heard the loud sound and conjectured it was a sign of his apparent disgust.

She said with a drooling tone: ‘ My apologies my darling but you can make it real quick’.

He interjected sharply: ‘Theres no problem, mum, I’m on my way’. 

He disengaged the line, feeling of rage embroiled in his gut.

He took a furtive glimpse at Anne. Her face which was aglow had transformed into a dull sullen look. He attempted to smolder the rage seething in her with touch but she objected: ‘its okay’. 

She dropped her cutleries, squirmed to her feet and reached for her shawl straddled on the back of the chair.

Mason was on his feet, dumbfounded and frustrated. He watched her scoop her bag and furiously make for the double glass doors. He dashed after her.

The gossips were almost aloud amidst the plinking tones of the piano resonating from the platform where the jazz band was performing

They were outside on the boulevard which was bathed by the linear chain of floodlights that lined the central business zone where the restaurant was located. Several cars were parked on the paved space that terminated at the buffer which had a rich array of luxuriant green plants.

The air was crisp and Mason was not feeling it, he was unhappy that Maggi was feeling jeopardised. He could not beg her – this was happening for the umpteenth time

‘I am deeply sorry my love’, he appealed, firmly clutching her hand.

He could observe her eyes laden with tears 

She was absolutely deflated. She tried recounting the number of times she wished to spend with him but it was his goddamn mum or uncle who always gatecrashed their fun times together. This was her greatest fear and she sometimes harboured this scepticism that she would have a happy marriage with him. It was always family, family, family!

She responded amidst sobs: ‘I can’t take this anymore. The reason I sometimes doubt your honesty to me and feel I cannot be married to you. Your family always has the better part of you and it’s killing me’.

He searched for the words to calm her already frayed nerves but was overcome by her tears: ‘I really don’t know what to say my love. I am  caught in between running the family business and settling down with you…’

She interrupted him and snapped: ‘Then organise yourself and be a man!’

Her outburst caught the attention of a few patrons who were exiting the low slung building that housed the restaurant.

He held her arms firmly, feeling the effect of the cold easterly monsoon slightly chilling her skin: ‘I will my love. Just give me some time’. He said reassuringly.

She wiped the tears welling down her eyes and looked into his eyes. He looked really hurt. Shw could feel he was determined to make the relationship work but his committment to sustain the million dollar enterprise was taking a huge toll on his wellbeing.

She pecked his cheek and stroked his jaw with her dainty fingers: ‘Let me allow you head back to your uncle. I will call you as soon as I get home’.

He could feel she was calm now. A serene look was evident on her countenance. 

He kissed her forehead and gave her the nod to leave.

She wafted slowly to her solitary silver Camry parked on the paved boulevard.

He watched her pur the car to life and ease the car onto the road. 

He felt a figure appearing like a silhouette in the distance watching curiously, he was standing by one of the floodlights across the road. He conjectured that individual had been standing there watching them for minutes. But that did not bother him, he could just be a homeless dude marinating on how he could someday dine at the restaurant. The figure soon drifted into a dark alley – he obviously suspected he was also been watched.

He took a quick glance at his customized Marc Jacobs wrist watch – an accessory studded with more than thirty carat of solid gold. It was 8:15 pm. The night in his opinion was over judging by Anne’s unfortunate departure.

Mason headed briskly to his dark Royce Royce parked at the far end of the boulevard. He eased into the rear seat and mildly ordered Gustavo, his chauffeur to drive straight to the corporate headquarters of Maddox Inc. – his company.

It would take another thirty minutes to circumvent through the bustling city centre to the impressive edifice of Maddox Inc. 

A prominent high-rise building made up of eighty one floors which possessed  a shimmering glazed exterior and insignia of a thunderbolt at the rooftop of tte building – a symbol of the Maddox brand, further accentuated by gleaming neon lights that made the company noticeable within the city’s commercial corridor.

Gustavo swivelled the car through a slightly steep ramp to the basement of the towering edifice. This area was specially reserved as a parking lot.

With his mind engrossed on his meeting with his uncle, his phone buzzed.

He guessed it was Anne. He reached for the breast pocket of his suit where his device was lodged. He found out that his guess was utterly wrong. It was Annes mother, Pam.

He engaged the line with his forefinger and enuciated a mild ‘Hello’.

Pam’s sonorous voice emmited through the receiver frantically: ‘Mason, Anne’s not home yet. I’ve been trying her line and it’s switched off. Where is she?’

‘She left the restaurant some minutes ago’, Mason said, his heart skipping a beat at Pam’s relevation.

Pam’s next statement was inevitable: ‘Does it means Anne has gone missing?’

Related intriguing short crime story by Ifeanyi Ekeleme – The Jouney

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